Seventeen Seconds
by GreyEyesGlaringAtShonda
Summary: Those three words are said too often. They're not enough. UPDATED with chapter 5!
1. Chapter 1

**Seventeen Seconds.**

by greyeyedgirl

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Those three words are said too often. They're not enough.

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_"That's how they do it, huh, with the 'I love you's, with the 'move in with me's, and they suck you in, they melt your resolve and the minute you actually **need** something, something you totally deserve, oh forget it, you know it's not gonna happen because they're gonna pass you over for surgery or they duck behind you when somebody's shooting."_ Cristina Yang, Grey's Anatomy 2.25 "17 Seconds."

**17 Seconds.** One half plus one plus two plus three plus four plus three plus two plus one and another half.

_17 Seconds._ That was how long it took Cristina to tell her landlord she was moving out of her apartment.

**17 Seconds.** That was how long Cristina had been in the apartment after the bomb scare before she fell into bed next to Burke.

_17 Seconds._ That was how long Burke had been lying on the cold pavement outside Seattle Grace Hospital before Miranda Bailey found him laying with a bullet hole in his right shoulder.

A lot could happen in 17 seconds. An astounding amount for such a short period of time.

Cristina Yang stood standing outside of Preston Burke's hospital room, freshly changed from her prom dress and into her scrubs, two cups of coffee steaming in her hand. She bit the inside of her bottom lip, releasing only when she tasted blood. She closed her eyes for a moment, before exhaling strongly to blow the stray curl of hair out of her eyes.

"Hey."

His eyes traveled over to her from inside his stationary head.

"Hey."

"Feeling okay?"

"I'm fine." He sounded tired, angry. **_Frustrated._** That was the word. He was used to being sucked-up to, not sympathized for. He was not used to her speaking to him gently, genially. This was a different side of her, and he didn't know if he liked it or not. As much as he had been silently begging to her for months for just a _sign_ of being the loving, compassionate woman he knew she was, he hadn't expected it to come this way. He didn't know what was happening, the white linoleum of the ceiling was to scary to stare at for hours at a time.

Empty. A life without surgery was empty.

"Here. I brought you coffee." She smiled softly. Her face was uncharacteristically sweet, and her voice, her words, were careful, and lacking the sarcastic edge that always tickled his ears.

She was watching him. He blinked slightly at the blank ceiling, the white swirling in front of his eyes, as she held out the coffee to him. His left hand shook as he reluctantly reached for it, and it had nothing to do with the tremors.

"Not much use for coffee. I don't exactly need to be stimulated, just laying here all day."

Cristina was silent for a few moments. "Derek said he wants you to try walking tomorrow. It might be a slow recovery but--" Her voice broke. "But you _will_ recover."

Burke looked at her, and then let his gaze wander to his trembling right hand. He sat up slowly, weakly, and set the coffee on the stand by the bed without drinking it. Cristina watched him without saying wanything. He didn't look at her.

"Has George been back?" _Why did I say that? Why did I bring up **George?**_

"Not since last night...I think he was probably with Callie, after the little 'prom.'" Cristina nodded, biting the inside of her lip slightly.

"How's Denny?" Burke said weakly.

Cristina froze. _Dammit!_ "Denny?"

"Duquette. I asked you to keep an eye on him for me." Burke's voice was angry, and full of accusations.

Cristina watched his hands tremble almost as if she didn't realize wahat she was seeing. "Denny...had a stroke. After the surgery. Burke, he..."

Burke closed his eyes tightly as if in pain. Cristina stood up a little straighter, not aware of herself loosening the grip on her coffee cup.

"How's Stevens?" Burke asked quietly. Cristina just looked at him. Burke closed his eyes again, sighing.

"I haven't seen her this morning. I haven't talked to anyone. After I left last night I went to an on-call room and slept, and this morning when I woke up the locker room was empty." Cristina shrugged. "She was pretty bad off last time I saw her, though," she said quietly. Burke didn't respond.

"Are you hungry? The hospital food's really bad, I know. I can get you something better? There's...an iHop? Down the street?" Cristina mildly wondered why she was suddenly an up-talker, her declarative sentences had never before came out as interrogative.

"I'm fine. I"ll eat the breakfast they have. I'm _used_ to hospital food." Burke closed his eyes as if he were about to go back to sleep.

"So. . . Is there anyone you want me to. . . call?"

Burke opened his eyes warily. "Call?"

Cristina hastily elaborated. "Family. In. . .Alabama? Or not there? Anyone you want to know what happened? Family, or friends, or-"

Burke broke her off. "That's not neccessary, Cristina."

Cristina tried to nod. "Right. They don't have to be here. I'm here. Right."

Burke's gaze drifted to the painting of a ship at bay on the wall to his right.

"Actually, I've been thinking."

Cristina froze.

"For my recovery. It's going to be messy. I'm going to have to work hard, and I'm going to get angry, frustrated, depressed, pretty often."

Cristina felt her eyebrows furl, she opened her mouth to speak but Burke held up a trembling hand to stop her.

"It's going to be very hard for you. Watching me." He paused, his voice oddly hoarse. "I don't want you to become my _nurse,_ Cristina."

Cristina's frown deepened. "Burke..."

"You are an independent person, Cristina. You're strong." Burke paused, now staring back at the blank white ceiling.

"I don't want you to take care of me because you feel you have to. I want you to _be_ with me, because you _want_ to."

Cristina felt the need to move, to take a step, but she didn't know if she wanted to go backwards or forwards.

"I think. . .until I'm fully recovered. . .we should take a break. From each other. And this relationship. Just to...sort out what we want, for each other, and from each other. What we want in general. You know?"

Cristina's cup of coffee slipped almost completely out of her fingers, she had to grasp it tightly and hold on. "A _break."_

Burke wasn't looking at her. "I think it's what's best. You can't handle seeing me like this. I don't hold any grudges for it. I want you to be with me because you _want_ to. You don't want to be here. And I need to take care of _myself_ now. It's going to be fine eventually. But for now--"

"'Fine,'" Cristina repeated vaguely. Burke heard her and misunderstood, thinking she was agreeing with him.

"You don't have to move out of the apartment, of course. I wouldn't do that to you. I'll, ah, check into a hotel for awhile, once I get out." He now smiled weakly.

Cristina stood there for what seemed like forever to her, watching him. Her eyes never traveled down to the hand that was shaking fiercely, but stayed watching his face, observing his bottom lip once twitch. She'd watched Burke perform surgery a thousand times, and he always made clean, quick cuts. But she saw now that he had been doing it wrong. The _real_ way to break a heart, the _best_ way to break a heart, was what he had just done. It wasn't clean, and it wasn't quick. It took those moments afterwards that she stood there watching him, watching his vision blur from staring at white for so long, watching him blink repeatedly.

It took about seventeen seconds.

a/n: As you probably guessed, this is my _latest_ ongoing story. :D :P I'll try to get a update up soon, but I'm having serious issues on my writing computer. Anyway, leave a review...Oh, and wish me happy birthday for today, June 5th...I'm 15 today:D


	2. Chapter 2

Seventeen Seconds 

Chapter Two

By greyeyedgirl

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Cristina sat at the bar next to Meredith, tipping her head back as she downed another shot, setting her glass down next to Meredith's empty glass, 17 small cups now lining the length of the bar. Izzie set her glass down, making it 18, and George choked as he hurriedly tried to swallow the last of his drink, then putting it casually on the counter.

Technically, George had no reason to be drinking. He had a loyal girlfriend who he for some reason was very fond of, and his life was going great. Albeit one of his best friends had just been shot and the other was suffering from a broken heart, but in Cristina's point of view there was no real reason to feel sorry for him. "Whatever. Everybody has problems."

"Hmmm?" Meredith asked, her voice starting to slur, nudging her head towards Joe, who looked at her skeptically.

"I think you two have had enough," he said to Meredith and Cristina, the heavy drinkers of the night.

"Seriously, Joe," Cristina said angrily, her voice laden with alcohol. "Enough is enough, you know?"

He smiled at her weakly.

"We should not have to go to work tomorrow. It's just gonna….suck. In a sucky mcsuckerton kind of way. You know?" Meredith said, now rocking back and forth on her stool. Cristina looked at her skeptically.

"You're right, Joe. Meredith has had enough to drink." Cristina didn't hold her alcohol very well, but she was like a 215-pound man compared to Meredith.

"Can I get another shot, Joe?" Izzie asked quietly, her eyes starting to look glazed. She stared vaguely around, then back at the dartboard in the back of the bar, where Alex was looking at her right before he attempted each shot.

"Fill 'er up," George said, trying to sound cheerful. The three girls all turned to glare at him, and Joe shook his head.

"We should get home. We have to work in 7 hours. George, you're the designated driver. You've had what, two glasses?"

George looked pitiful. "Cristina, are you sleeping over?"

"Duh," Cristina said, rolling her eyes and standing up. "Like I'm going to---" She stopped, pretending to be rubbing her eyes tiredly, then forcing a weak smile. "Come on," she said to Meredith and Izzie, nudging them. George stood up forcefully, and Meredith made an attempt, wavering and stumbling. Cristina rolled her eyes, taking her arm and looking at Izzie expectantly.

"I'm not going home just yet. I don't really have a reason to go to bed early." Izzie looked at them, her voice dull and her expression blank.

"How are you getting home?" George asked dumbly.

"I'll call a cab," Izzie responded dryly.

Cristina frowned slightly, before rolling her eyes again, pulling Meredith almost by force out of the bar.

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"Rounds, first up is a guy with pulmonary failure by a tumor of the left ventricle…he'll be getting a cardiovascular resection of the tumor by our interim head of cardio, Dr. Sara Hartford." Bailey led her four interns into the heart patient's room.

"Alright, who's presenting."

"Carl Mathers, presents with pulmonary failure from a tumor, which is located on the left ventricle. Seattle Grace's Interim Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery will be scrubbing in tonight to do a cardiovascular resection of the tumor and repair the damage to the left ventricle with a cardiopulmonary bypass for the swelled and harmed tissue," Cristina said hurriedly. The tall brunette in the corner nodded slowly, listening.

"That's right," she said, stepping forward. "I'm Dr. Hartford, by the way, I've been flown in from Dallas to substitute for Seattle Grace's head of cardio, Dr. Burke, while he's recovering from an injury. I'll be performing the surgery, and I look forward to working with you Dr…---" She looked at Cristina questioningly.

Cristina jumped, realizing she was talking to her. "Um, Yang. Cristina Yang."

"Dr. Yang. Welcome to the case." Dr. Hartford smiled, there was almost a cat-that-ate-the-canary way about it that made Cristina slightly uncomfortable.

"Right," Bailey said slowly, nodding. "Well, come on, everyone. We've got rounds to finish."

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"Move," Cristina grunted to George, nudging him out of her way as she threw her tray onto the table, sitting down at the circular table the interns ate lunch at every day.

George forced a smile, scooting down the table. "How's Burke's replacement? Dr. Hartford?"

Cristina turned to stare at him. "She's not his replacement, Bambi. She's his sub. While he's getting better." She looked at him as if to say, 'like, duuuuh.'

George swallowed his piece of turkey sandwich. "Right. That's what I meant."

Cristina rolled her eyes, before changing the subject. She didn't want to talk, or think, about Burke. "You guys have any good cases?"

Alex smirked, leaning forwards. "Derisory Craniotomy. The kid has FS."

Cristina glared, leaning forward. "Oh, I would kill for that!"

Alex grinned, winking. "What else would you do?"

Cristina groaned, leaning backwards. "What would it take to finally hear the end of you, Evil Spawn?"

Alex just laughed. Meredith picked at her salad. "I was assigned to Addison." She looked up at Cristina, her "My-mother-has -Alzheimer's-please-feel-sorry-for-me" look on her face.

"I'm working the pit," George said gloomily. "I've had 17 sutures and 4 enemas."

Cristina laughed loudly. She needed that.

"So how are you? Since your whole break-up with Burke?" Meredith asked bluntly.

George's head snapped up, looking around curiously. "Cristina and Burke broke up?"

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A/n: Sorry, pretty boring/nondramatic chapter. I'm going somewhere. I promise. :P


	3. Chapter 3

Seventeen Seconds 

By GrEyEyEdGiRl

Chapter 3:D

A/n: This is fun. Writing is fun again.. Maybe you'll get a worthwhile update today. :D Isn't this exciting? ;) XD

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"Carlos Consuello Mathers! What the HELL were you thinking!" The short, heavyset Hispanic woman yelled, as Cristina followed Dr. Hartford into the room.

Cristina looked at the woman skeptically. She was very pretty, with long straight brown hair, which shone and bounced when she moved. Her patient was staring at her in a very amused sort of way, waiting for her to finish.

"You pass out in grocery market, you have hospital CALL YOUR GIRLFRIEND! It not too hard to figure out!" Cristina raised both eyebrows, starting to flip through the patient's chart.

"You moron!" The woman yelled. "What's wrong with him?" She asked, turning to look at Cristina and Dr. Hartford. "Is it his-" She gestured to her head. "His seizures? Sometimes they give him problems-" She sighed, annoyed, leaning backwards on her heels. "Honestly, Carlos, I don't know-"

"Um," Cristina said uncomfortably.. "Your boyfriend has pulmonary failure from a tumor that is located on the left ventricle of his heart. Dr. Hartford," Cristina gestured to Sara. "-Seattle Grace's Interim Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery, will be performing a cardiovascular resection to remove the tumor, then she'll perform a cardiopulmonary bypass, to repair the damage caused by the tear the tumor infiltrated."

"That's right," Dr. Hartford said, stepping forward. "I'm Dr. Sara Hartford, I'm head of Cardio surgery at Joshua Fowler Memorial in Dallas. I am a specialist in pulmonary tumors, so your boyfriend is in very good hands, I assure you-"

"He has cancer?" The woman stepped forward, looking horrified. She turned to Carl. "You have cancer?"

"Lizzie, relax," Carl said laughing. "The tumor is benign. No cancer. They're just going to slice me open tonight and take it out, then repair the damage that it did." He smiled, shaking his head.

The woman, Elisabeth Lopez, stared at him, traces of anger still etched into her face, but worry now being her predominant feature. The anger suddenly appeared back, full force.

"You _moron!_ How could you not tell me! What am I to you, just some girl you…."

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Meredith tentatively opened the door to Preston Burke's room, following Miranda Bailey in. Burke was laying back, staring at the black TV screen aimlessly. Bailey smiled at him gently when they came in, but he barely managed a glance her way.

"Morning, Dr. Burke," Bailey said, walking over to his bed and starting to take his stats. "Well, your fever spiked overnight, but it is now down to 99.4. Your BP has normalized, and after we get your labs back we'll be able to give you a more detailed analysis. As for now, though, you're looking pretty good." Bailey smiled at him.

Burke smiled uncomfortably, nodding slightly to Grey. "When will Shepherd be back?"

"Oh, Dr. Shepherd asked me to tell you," Bailey said. "He had an emergency surgery, but he'll be in here as _soon_ as he gets out, which should be in about-" She glanced quickly at her watch. "Oh an hour and a half, tops. Your labs will be back by then, so it's really better anyway, he'll be able to give you a full recap on how you're doing."

Burke raised one eyebrow at her, and Bailey couldn't help smirking. "Not that, you don't, of course, _already_, know how you're doing."

Burke chuckled weakly for the first time in two days. "Saved yourself in the end, there, Miranda." Meredith tried to smile uncomfortably, looking back and forth from the two doctors.

"Grey, I want you to go to the fourth floor, see what's taking so long on Dr. Burke's blood work, after that you can check on the epileptic girl in room 574, run Mr. Arnolds in 519 down to CT, get the results from Mrs. Anderson's MRI, room 538, and finish up by picking up Dr. Burke's labs. I want to see you back here in an hour. Scoot!"

"Yes, Dr. Bailey," Meredith responded, nodding and rushing out of the room. She would never admit it, but it slightly creeped her out to see Dr. Burke hooked up to tubes, laying in a hospital bed constrained by the thin cord of his IV machine.

"Hey," Cristina said, coming down the hallway towards her. Meredith smiled weakly, turning to look at her. "Hey. Good morning?"

"My patient's girlfriend is a crazy…but besides that, yeah, all is well." Cristina laughed, shaking her head, taking a handful of edibles from the bag of chips she was clutching.

Meredith looked at her, concerned. "What about you? How are you feeling?"

Cristina looked at her scornfully. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Meredith rolled her eyes. "It means that you've just had your heart broken by the man that you love. Not everyone would be doing just fine."

Cristina made herself smirk as she downed another handful of chips. "What about you? Seen McDreamy around?"

Meredith winced. "No, and I don't want to." She paused. "I mean, of course I _want_ to. But…I don't know what we…I mean we…he's mcmarried!"

Cristina crumbled up the empty bag of chips into her fist, before dropping it in the trashcan behind a nurse's station. "Oh, good observation, Dr. Grey. And what did his films show?"

Meredith ignored her. "I mean, we…we can't do that! Can we?" She turned to look at Cristina pitifully.

Cristina turned to glance at her, then realized Meredith was staring. "Um…you can do whatever you want Mer. But I would _highly_ recommend you wait until his wife's out of the picture, first."

"Morning, Doctors," Addison Shepherd said breezily, walking up to them. "Did I hear someone mention a wife?"

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this chapter was written in 20 minutes….sorry. :P And I kept getting distracted by my wallpaper of John Cusack from _Must Love Dogs._ So…er…is anyone else in love with him:D

LOL, I hope you liked the chapter. I've got big plans for this one. :P **_Please_** leave a review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Seventeen Seconds.**

Chapter four

By greyeyedgirl

A/n: You should probably not write fanfic when you are feeling completely uninspired, and are also sort of pouty because Raven on Morethancoffee keeps making fun of you. I hope, that when I'm a grown-up, I have better things to do than make self-conscious little girls feel bad about themselves.

But that's just me. :D

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Cristina walked quickly down the halls of Seattle Grace Hospital, flipping through the chart of Carl Mathers as she went and pushing her hair out of her face, frustrated, as it kept curling back over her shoulders when she lowered her head to read the chart.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Yang. Are you heading to lunch?" Sara Hartford came up behind her. Cristina was immersed in the chart and didn't realize for a moment she was talking to her.

"Oh! Oh, Dr. Hartford…um, yeah, I want to take care of something real quick, but then I'll be heading down to the cafeteria. Why? Is there something I can do for you?" Cristina looked at the tall brunette inquisitively.

"No, no," Sara said smiling. "So, any word on how Dr. Burke is doing? I heard his injury is quite serious, since I'm here for 2 weeks, which, as we both know," Sara let out a little laugh. "Is a long vacation for a doctor." She smiled at Cristina questioningly.

Cristina had frozen at the sound of Burke's name. "Um, I'm not really sure. You could ask Meredith, though. Dr. Grey. I think she's the intern on his case. But last I knew…he was recovering as well as can possibly be expected."

"That's good to hear…I can't really say I like being here. It's kind of weary and drowsy, compared to Dallas." Sara laughed. "No offense."

Cristina had already started to eye her chart, wanting to get off the subject. "Oh, it's fine," she said dismissively, now looking at Sara and smiling tightly.

"Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you, Dr. Hartford?"

Sara looked off-put. "Oh, um, nope. I think I'm going to head to the cafeteria. I guess I'll see you in an hour. Make sure you get those test results before hand." Sara smiled one last time, turning and heading away from Cristina down the hall.

Cristina watched her, frowning. Did Dr. Hartford think she'd been cold? Well, of course she had been! Dr. Hartford was her boss, at least temporarily. Cristina did suck-up, not friendly. If Dr. Hartford didn't know that, she was getting some pretty warped gossip from the nurses.

Cristina turned, tucking the binder with Carl Mather's medical information under her left arm, and heading down to where she had set out to go.

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dun dun _dun._ I know it's super short, but it's all you get right now. All I'm saying is that Cristina is _not_ going to deliver labs or whatever. Kay:D :P Because that would be entirely boring.


	5. Chapter 5

Seventeen Seconds 

Chapter 5

By greyeyedgirl

A/n: I know the last chapter was pathetic. Blah blah blah. Sit back and enjoy.

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Cristina clutched Carlos Mathers' chart under her arm, peering carefully around the door to Burke's hospital room. Perfect. He was out on his walk through the hospital, in an attempt to gain back some of his strength.

Cristina looked both ways before ducking into the room. She didn't want to think how Meredith would react if she found out Cristina was in here. She'd probably get mad and ask Cristina why she didn't just _ask_ her how Burke was doing. Cristina rolled her eyes at the thought. It was very, very important that Meredith did not find out. Because if Meredith _did_ ask her that, Cristina would be required to say something snarky, which would undoubtedly lead to Meredith's eyes filling with pain, before she finally cracked and had a total nervous breakdown. At this point, Cristina would welcome it. At least Izzie would have some company.

Cristina headed to the machine in the corner by the bed, punching some information into the computer system. In seconds she could see Burke's films, and she carefully checked over them, going as quickly as she could. She felt her breath intake.

There was slightly less damage from the aneurysm as before. The wound was starting to heal itself. She could see now that the nerves were not damaged but simply swollen, which would explain Burke's tremors. But if that were true, his shaking wouldn't even last till the end of the week---

She heard a noise outside the door, and panicking, she ducked into the bathroom, slamming the door just seconds before Burke shuffled into the room.

Picking up his glasses that'd he left behind, Burke frowned, picking up a paper from Carl Mathers' chart from off of his hospital bed. Looking at it confusedly, comprehension dawned, and he let out a small smirk. He looked over towards the bathroom, where the door was closed tightly. He was _positive_ he had left it open.

Almost chuckling, Burke forced out a loud cough, then made a point to make noise as he exited back into the hallway. Cristina slowly started counting to herself, waiting until all was silent. A decent amount of seconds later, she exited, looking around cautiously. Not even noticing the paper that had slipped out of Carl Mathers' file, she dipped out of Burke's hospital room, before scurrying down the halls.

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"Burke's going home on Friday," George announced cheerfully, sitting his lunch tray down on the table. Cristina didn't let herself move as she remained hunched over a medical textbook, her eyes traveling down the page as she absorbed this new information.

"He won't be able to return to work for a couple of weeks. He's going into a rehab program in Olympia, it's supposed to be one of the best in the country." George shoved a handful of french fries into his mouth.

Cristina slowly moved her head away from her book, not averting her eyes from the text, as she put her mouth on the straw of her drink and took a sip. "Do you have a point, George?"

George smiled at her excitedly. "Well, Burke's only broken up with you until he gets better, right? So if he'll be home on--"

"Who told you that?" Cristina demanded, slamming her book and standing up. "Uh, what?" George said, gazing up at her like he was scared she was going to pull an Izzie.

"That! About the---the---" Cristina frowned, staring. "Do I have to spell it out for you, George?"

George looked nonplussed. "Uh…oh! Oh, um, Meredith mentioned. She said to be nice to you. But she seemed kind of distracted, and she was looking towards the elevator."

Cristina glared at him. "I gotta go," she said, picking up The Textbook of Surgery and hurrying back into the hospital, leaving George to take care of her tray and diet pepsi.

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After lunch, Cristina picked up the rest of Mr. Mathers' labs and headed back to his room. She met Dr. Hartford outside of his door, who smiled at her broadly, opening the door and letting Cristina go through first.

"Estas a tienes suerte estoy clemente a tucon la acrobacia estupido tiras mes pasado con tus hermano y entonce olvidando mencionar a mi que tienes uno-" Elisabeth Lopez's Spanish was fast and fluent, as Carl grinned at her, looking amused.

Elisabeth stopped, seeing his grin. "You!" She said, switching back to English as the doctors continued into the room. "Sitting there laughing, like-"

"Um, excuse me," Cristina said, interrupting. "Your boyfriend's labs are back. His tumor is growing and it will start infiltrating vital nerves soon, so we need to get him to surgery as soon as possible. His surgery has been bumped up an hour, that was as soon as we could get him in."

Dr. Hartford took over. "As for now, we will continue to keep you on your anesthetics, which we'll slowly start weaning you off of in the next few hours, so you'll be able to have the proper anesthesia dosage before we operate. I just want to say, Mr. Mathers, your chances are _excellent,_ I'm a specialist in this field and I have a very good success rate-"

"When will he be able to come home?" Elisabeth interrupted.

"He will be pretty weak for awhile, heart surgery takes a lot out of you. He'll need to stay in the hospital for about a week, though in a few days he'll be transferred from the surgical wing. He'll need bedrest at home for a few weeks, and someone will have to bring him for post-op every day. But in three weeks or so, he'll be starting to really get back to normal." Sara smiled encouragingly.

"Thank you, doctors," Carl said smiling. He reached for Elisabeth's hand and held it for a moment, grinning up at her.

Cristina exited the room, though Dr. Hartford stayed behind to talk to the patient more. Pushing her hair off her face, she walked down the hallway and somewhat subconsciously past Burke's room. She could have went the other way and _not_ passed his room, that would have actually been the faster route to the elevator. She sighed, glancing through the blinds quickly and, she hoped, nonchalantly, then stopped, seeing him laying in bed, with George standing next to him grinning and chatting away. Burke smiled at something George said, and Cristina hurried down the hall.

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a/n: A slightly longer chapter than the last one. BTW, since I speak about 4 words of Spanish (and 3 of those are curse words) I had my sister translate the Spanish part. Since she's taken and passed Spanish I, Spanish II, and Spanish III, she SHOULD have a good grasp on the language. Somehow though, I doubt any of what she put is right. In the chance it isn't, that SHOULD translate, in English, to Elisabeth saying: "You're lucky I'm even forgiving you, with the stupid stunt you pulled last month with your brother, and then FORGETTING to mention to me that you have a-" Sorry if what she put is wrong. I can easily supply her email address, and you can yell at her. :D

Anyway…I have a point to this story. I promise. Remember…I don't write unhappy endings! Oh, and happy Fourth of July to my American readers! And to the non-Americans…lol, I hope you have a good Tuesday, too:P


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